How Bad She Needs to Be Good Ch. 06

Chapter 6

It was a quiet ride back from the Club for Tim and me. We were processing all the emotions and sensations from our scene with Allen, our master. In a private dining room at what I now knew was an exclusive sex club, Allen had taught me a lesson. He did not suffer brat behavior. He made the point by using Toni, one of his subs, who worked at the club. I couldn't call her a server anymore -- at least not in the traditional restaurant meaning. She served Allen, whom we called Sir, and tonight she had served me a buffet of cum. And I wanted more.

As Tim drove, I wondered how he was handling all this. We had showered and recovered at the club. Toni had given us reassurance and praise for our efforts. I licked my lips at the thought of her. My jealousy was fighting with the taste of her in my mouth -- a taste I had received from my husband's own cock an hour earlier. As part of my punishment for my insubordination with Sir, she had ridden my husband's cock, made him beg, and finally left me to finish him in my mouth. Part of my humbling being that I took my cuckold husband's cum in my mouth, holding it there to until I could spill it into the water glass on the table with the other loads of cum. A water glass I had filled with cum and saliva in trips back and forth to the gloryhole booths. I vibrated with the memory. Sure, the setting was posh and elite, but the acts were the basest. My body was a receptacle and Sir owned it.

I reached over and touched my husband's cheek. "I love you," I said.

He turned his head to the side, not taking his eyes off the road, and kissed the palm of my hand.

When we got home, our walk from the garage was quiet. I stepped through to the kitchen and poured us each a drink. In silence still, I walked out to the backyard. Tim followed me a step behind.

I sat down in a lawn chair and stared up at the moon. It was late at night but I didn't have work tomorrow (well, today to be honest about the hour.) Tim sat down next to me. He reached over and took my hand. We sipped our drinks for a moment, still not wanting to break the spell.

Finally, because I was the leader now between us, I spoke. "Tim, I'm sorry that I pushed things with Sir. The punishment was for me, but you bore the consequences too."

Tim squeezed my hand. "I literally signed up for this," he said. "I would have swapped places with you had he let me."

I knew it was true. Tim had proven his desire for humiliation time and again. And his devotion to me and my pleasure was beyond the bounds of a traditional husband. He knew I loved Sir and craved the debasement he gave me, the domination that Tim knew he could never convincingly provide. Our marriage now was a threesome -- a ladder, as I described it, with Tim on the bottom rung.

Still, it stung.

Seeing his face as Toni ground her pussy on his dick. Knowing that I wouldn't be the last pussy he felt anymore. Now Tim's last sensation of a pussy would not be mine but Toni's because Sir had forbidden Tim from entering me again that way. I felt the jealousy rise in me.

"Did you enjoy her?"

"No," Tim said, his face suddenly pained. But the look I gave him made him shift gears. "I mean, yes, it felt good, but you have to know, I only love you. I did it only because those are the rules. Your rules. I do as I'm told."

"You didn't want to use a safe word?"

He went quiet. "I guess... I didn't feel... In danger?"

I realized I was being unfair. I was hurt and ever since we signed ourselves over to Allen, I allowed myself to be crueler with Tim.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That was mean of me."

"Please," Tim said, "I adore it when you're harsh with me, Becky. I get so fucking hard when you tease me."

I turned to him. "Show me."

He reached down and opened the fly of his pants. He pulled out his dick. It was quickly growing. I realized I missed it. It wasn't as big as Allen's and it was circumcised, unlike Allen's, but it was my husband's cock and I loved it. Familiar and comforting. For the first time since the beginning of our cuckold relationship, I wanted to fuck it. I had been caught up in the honeymoon of lust with Allen, but tonight I felt a longing to reconnect with Tim that way. With all my focus on the top rung and the -- let's face it -- fun of torturing the bottom rung, I had underestimated what it feels like to be the middle rung. I felt torn between two loyalties. It didn't matter that Tim preferred his place. He was also now forbidden fruit. I needed to reclaim him.

"Stroke it. Gently," I said.

He moaned as he began his careful, slow masturbation.

"I love your cock, Tim. I hope you know that. It's difficult to deny myself the pleasure of it."

He sighed. "I want to fuck you so badly, Becky."

"I know. I know. But you agreed. Your obsession with cuckolding. Your desire to see me fucked by another man. And to be denied access to your own wife. Your lust to clean me up... after."

He groaned.

"You love that one, don't you?" I said. "Sucking Allen's cum from my pussy?"

"Y- Yes."

I reached into my pants. I stroked myself. "I didn't get his cock today, and that's my fault. I'm sorry, I collected nothing for you. In here." I arched my back slightly as I eased my fingers inside me.

As I watched, Tim stroked himself to the image. I imagined myself riding him again. I imagined it was his dick inside me instead of my fingers. I needed him to come with me now -- just the two of us. Isn't that marriage? The coming together of two people? Sure, it was twisted, but that winding wrapped us up together. Our kinks were now entwined.

"You can't be inside me anymore, Tim."

He shook his head. His hand trembled. He was getting close. He loved it when I talked dirty.

"I swallowed so much cum today, Tim. I feel it in my stomach."

"Oh, fuck."

"I wish it was more. I'd suck so many cocks for him, Tim. I'd be such a slut for him. "

I pictured the first girl I had seen with Allen, back when he lived at my father's house with us. He was my father's friend and twenty years older than me, but back before there were flecks of silver in his beard, I'd caught him one night dominating an eager woman. I spied on him while she serviced him. That imprint carried me through to this day.

I said words inspired by what Allen's said to her that night. "I'd let him lead me around on a collar. I'd be his party girl entertaining guests. I'd suck his cum out of the girls he fucked, look in their eyes and thank them for the privilege."

"Oh, Becky, please..."

"Please, do it?"

"Please... Yes. I want whatever you want. I want to watch you be his pet."

"Your good wife? On her knees? A complete, begging, sloppy slut?"

"Please?"

"Oh, you want to come?"

He whimpered. I slowly unbuttoned my blouse. I spread it open. "I need you to come for me too, hubby. I need to know that you come for me. I own your orgasm. I own your cock."

"Yes, yes, yes." He looked at me with eyes nearly watering with lust and pain. I crooked my finger at him, and he quickly left his seat and straddled me. I squeezed my breasts together.

"Am I your one and only?" I said.

"Yes, Becky. You're the only one for me."

"But you've sucked cocks and fucked another woman. Do you deserve me?"

"No, I do it all for you. I am only for you. Becky, I love you. I love what I do for you. I love what you do for... him."

"That's right, baby. But I want you to know you deserve me. You've earned the right. You prove your devotion. I love you. I love debasing you. I love the look in your eye when you beg to come. I love the pain in your eyes when Sir uses me. Did I say stop stroking?"

"I... I'm afraid..."

"But I want you to come, Tim. I want you to paint my chest with your little load. Because I own you. No matter what Sir asks of you, this is mine."

I reached up and took his cock. I rubbed my thumb over the head, smearing his pre-cum all over. His legs shook with the sudden overstimulation.

"Cum for me, husband."

He grunted loudly. Neither of us cared if the neighbors heard us. I secretly hoped they had woken at the noise and slipped out to listen to our nasty conversation. What would they make of the discovery that a slut wife and cuckold lived next to them? Would they sneak back to their bedrooms and fuck out their lust? Would it give them ideas?

Spurt after spurt hit my chest. I only had the one free hand to hold my breasts up for him, but I guided his spatter all over my cleavage. When I squeezed the last drop out, I brought my hand down and smeared the cum all over my breasts and ran my fingers over my light-brown areolas, pinched my hard nipples.

"Such a nice load, Tim. I hope you're hungry."

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Beg."

"May I clean you up?"

"Say it."

"May I suck my cum from your breasts? I want to lick my cum from your body. I want to clean you completely."

"Mm, yes, my love." I pulled his body down until I planted his face on my chest. He began to slurp and suck. If the neighbors were up, they heard enough to know for sure that my husband was a cum-eating sub I controlled completely.

As he nuzzled me, I edged myself further. I wanted to bask in the adoration. I knew I couldn't come without Sir's permission, but for now I was content with the worship, knowing that my husband's love was secure and enduring. Perhaps he would get to fuck other women, but I trusted it was me he worshipped. He loved me and he gave me this most precious gift -- his submission.

He was mine again.

* * *

At work, I was on my best behavior. I truly needed to show my master that I'd learned my lesson and was leaving my brat behavior behind. I was determined to be wholly compliant in both body and mind.

I had made the mistake of becoming possessive of Sir and he found a way to both put me in my place and use my possessiveness to drive me into a frenzy. By letting Tim fuck Toni at the club, he lit my competitive fires. Watching me with another man excited Tim, but watching him with another woman was not my kink. And that made it a fitting punishment for me. Give in or give up. I loved my husband, and even though we had turned over control of our bodies to Sir, I didn't enjoy watching my husband accept the pleasures of another woman, no matter how sexy she looked.

So, since that night of the lesson, I had been careful and compliant with Sir. I approached the work I was doing with even more perfectionism that usual. No more baiting Sir with "careless" mistakes. I would not give him a reason. He would have to make one up.

I worked at my father's company; although, I don't like to admit it. I try to be independent to avoid the nepotism accusation. Alan had recently joined the company as Chief Technical Officer, but he knew my dad from when they were in college. My unrequited crush at the time Allen lived with us became an ember in my heart, just waiting for the day he walked back into my life and stoked that ember into a raging fire. Allen was the ideal man to that younger version of me and even though my husband is now my ideal partner, all of us know and acknowledge now that Alan is my soulmate because of how he enabled me to live out the life I'd always repressed. (I mean, it takes teamwork.)

So, I was on good behavior, but, let's be honest, my rebellious streak had to go somewhere. That target was usually my husband. The more Sir expected from me, the harder I was on myself, and the harder things got for Tim. (Literally.)

Tim loved it, though. If he came at all, it was onto my feet, or the floor, or into a juice glass. In fact, I had taken to leaving the glass out on the counter all the time now. Even though he'd rinse the glass with water to drink up every drop, there was always a little film around the rim that I wanted him to see as a reminder of the last time I permitted him to ejaculate -- and as a reinforcement of where it would go next if he did. I called it the "cucktail glass." A reminder of other glasses we both had to fill for Sir while tending the glory holes at the Club.

I suspect Sir was letting things settle a bit, too, after the intensity of the last scene. A lot of boundaries were pushed. I think he knew I needed to integrate the lesson. So, for the past week, my routine had been steady. After a long day of (perfect) work for Sir, I went into his office.

I would say, "Have you reviewed my work, Mr. Marks?"

He would say, "I'm ready now, Rebecca."

I then closed and locked the door. (His assistant, Tanya, knew we were working on the project and that this was our "focused time," and Sir was very careful and consistent in setting up our alibi. This was our standard work session for the project. We did it every day, and we were not to be disturbed.)

Immediately, I kneeled and waited. I resisted letting my gaze linger on his athletic body in his crisp dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I looked down, content to detect the slight aroma of his cologne drifting my way.

All this week that's how he would leave me -- head bowed, fully clothed, silent, and waiting. Occasionally, he would ask a question, but only about my work; and I answered without raising my head.

I don't know why, but the tension of that quiet hour made my heart beat faster. Each tap of the keyboard, each sound I heard from Sir, became a clarion call in my mind. Perhaps now. Now, perhaps? At the end of our time, he would say, "Thank you, Rebecca. That's all I need of you today." Heartbroken, I would rise, my legs shaking and achy. All I left behind was the aroma of my pussy drooling for his cock.

Today, as I kneeled, finally he said, "Top off."

I unbuttoned my white blouse with shaky fingers. My heart immediately began pounding. I felt the heat on my face. I wore no bras anymore. I didn't need one anyway, but it was always a delicate balance at work to avoid too much exposure and yet be sheer enough in these moments for Sir to see my erect nipples.

I let the top fall to the floor and sat up, hoping to display my girls a little better for him. I felt the blush expand from my face down to my chest as my areolas puffed for him. My breasts weren't as big as Toni's, but Sir seemed to adore them. He opened a drawer, took something out, and walked over. He held out his hand. In his palm were two nipple clamps.

"Hold still," he said as he kneeled down. I inhaled his scent. I admired his close-cropped beard. He placed one clamp on my left nipple. The cold bit into me first, then he tightened the screw. As the pain increased, I kept my face still, until I couldn't. That's when Sir stopped and moved to the other breast.

He leaned back and observed my state. The heat in my skin spread down my belly. The pain in my nipples was intense, but familiar. I felt the excitement grow.

He said, "Would you pierce them for me?"

I pictured Toni's nipples, which had small rings in them, and I shivered. "Yes, Sir..." I looked around nervously. "Right now?"

He laughed. "No, my pet. With a professional. But I like your dedication."

I blinked back my embarrassment. How compliant was I? Damn.

He reached over and pushed my skirt up my thighs until the material fell off my hips and the weight of the cloth held it open. He nodded down, and I slowly separated my knees. The pain there was becoming intense too as my knees pressed down on the hardwood floor.

He took a deep breath and smiled at me. "Your aroma is delicious."

I shook. Fuck, He could smell my heat. I knew how wet I was. I had been edging throughout the day.

He sat down cross-legged, facing me, and said, "I've noticed your devotion to your work." His eyes were so intense. After looking at the floor all week, I felt more exposed looking back at him.

"Thank you, Sir."

He looked between my legs. I knew he could see how wet and open I was. I wanted to reach down and touch myself, but I held still. My legs shook a little.

He said, "Will you regret choosing this life with me?"

I shook my head, no.

"Maybe you'll grow tired of this or bored?"

"I want you so much, Sir."

"You say that now, but I've lost others. They want more. More of me, or more than I can deliver."

I raised my eyebrows.

"You'd be surprised," he said.

I thought I was depraved, but I recalled that long list of kinks Tim and I went through to define our limits and realized that maybe I was not as far out there as some women. Was that not enough for Sir? My heart pounded. Was this a "talk?"

I said, "I can't imagine a time when I won't want you... like this. I want to be what you want from me."

"There's another trap, I have to confess. In the past, I've lost interest. Either I've finished exploring their boundaries, or they are so eager, I find I can't go far enough for them. I have my boundaries too."

He stroked my neck, and I shivered, both from the touch and the thought of Sir exploring my maximum boundaries. I felt a hitch of fear that I could bore him. That he might find me too challenging or not brave enough.

"Here's the thing," he said as he reached down and lightly flicked the clamp on my left nipple. I whimpered with lust. He said, "What we have is different from my past subs. I find myself tenderer with you." He flicked the other clamp. I bit my lip.

"I can take more," I said. "If you want me to be nasty. I can be dirty. Please--"

He cut me off. "No, that's not it. And thank you. I believe you. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm more intimate with you. I wonder if I can maintain the distance required."

I was bold enough to grab his hand. I said, "I don't want distance between us."

He nodded. "Yes, that's the thing. Maybe with you, it isn't role play for me."

He hadn't pulled his hand away, so I took it and kissed it.

He closed his eyes softly. "This past week, I've struggled with holding my fire with you. I've wanted to throw you down and fuck you with complete abandon. No games. Just to be inside you again. It's taken all my reserve."

"Oh, fuck, Sir. I've wanted that so badly."

He licked his lips. "Would that break our agreement? We have established these lines, and I have trained you like other subs, but you're not just any sub. I have discovered that I want you to want me as much for myself as the role I play for you. I mean, I truly love you."

I shook my head. His confession sparked in my chest. I continued to kiss his hand. "I want nothing more than to belong to you completely. You don't have to spank me or torture me. Just withholding yourself from me was torture enough this week."

"I'm not saying I don't want to dominate you. I'm only saying that my desire to own you physically may take other shapes than we discussed. I may want more of your heart, and I don't want that to scare you. Or to put your marriage at risk."

I lowered his hand between my legs. I pressed it to my pussy. I groaned when he didn't resist. "Does this feel like I'm pulling away?"

He shook his head.

I said, "I don't want to leave Tim."

"I understand."

I let myself be caught in Allen's eyes. "We want you. I need you in our life. I want you to use me. But I don't care how. All I want is to be completely enthralled with you. When I lose myself in your control, I find so much peace. And so much joy."

"Will Tim be able to take it? If our intimacy is too intense?"

"I understand Tim's needs. The intensity would be so delicious for him. If you fuck me tenderly in front of him, he will lose his mind with lust. To be eclipsed by you will be exquisite for him. Watching me lose my inhibitions for you is a drug for him. And I want him to experience all that because I love him and want him to be as joyful as I am in this."

"Fuck, you're amazing, my pet."

He ran his hands over my breasts, brushing my aching nipples. He released the clamps, and I gasped with the fire that lit. He leaned into me and kissed me deeply.

He said, "Fuck, you have blown up all my composure and my plans. I'm going to have to improvise new ways to own you."

"I don't want to be like your other subs, Sir. And I... I want everyone to see it. We fit perfectly. That's no accident. I want to be your favorite pet."

"You already are."

He opened the fly on his pants and he pulled out his cock. "Shall we give Tim something to savor later?"

I nodded and smiled. "He's been so sad all week, Sir. I can't disappoint him again."

"You enjoy making him do it?"

"I don't make him do it, Sir. I enjoy making him beg for it and hearing the soft sounds he makes as he sucks your cum out of me. The way he squirms as he tries not to grind his little dick against my leg as he tastes you."

Sir pressed himself against me. I moaned as I guided the crown into my eager pussy.

He grunted as he felt our alignment. He pressed into me and sighed as he found passage.

"You feel so good, my pet."

I could only gasp as he sunk further. Feeling his thickness open me. I had waited so long to feel this again. He put his hand softly over my mouth as I moaned. I closed my eyes. Finally, as I felt his groin press against my vulva and the crown kiss my cervix, I came screaming into his palm. I didn't care if Tanya was outside with her ear pressed against the door. I hoped I gave her something to jerk off to later.

Sir began the slide back and forth in me as I felt the spasms of my orgasm become a wave rippling through my abdomen. I grabbed the back of his head and stared into his eyes as I felt the electric flow.

"I... need..."

"I know. I'm close. I don't want to hold back."

"Fucking... fill me..."

With eyes open, I felt him pulsing inside me. He sank all the way in and my eyes fluttered as I felt the bubbling against my cervix. I shivered and came again. This time, he didn't stifle me. Hopefully, everyone had gone home. Also, hopefully, they were all standing outside, rapt by the sounds of our pleasure. I didn't care.

*

When I pulled into the garage at home, I took a moment to compose myself. My skirt was sticky with Sir's cum. Drying streaks cracked at my knees where it had run down my legs as I walked out of the office. The few people I saw there after hours didn't bother to look up. Only one young man working late flicked his attention back to his screen after he made eye contact. In the past, I'd caught him looking at my ass or tits. I felt sure that as I passed his desk, he caught the aroma of sex, and turned his head to watch me leave. Feeling his eyes, I let my hips sway a little more, wondering if the light sparked in the liquid streaks running down my thighs. I would never know for sure, but I hoped I gave him something for his spank bank. A slutty woman having a sleazy office affair. If only he'd known my true depravity. All Sir would have to do is ask, and I'd privately suck off any man in that place. (Save one, of course.)

I hoped there was enough of Allen's spunk left in me to sate my husband's thirst for humiliation. Tim was going to have work for it, surely. I felt the anticipatory flutter in my pussy as I imagined my husband on his knees suckling me. It really did turn me on seeing him so willing and eager. Watching his cheeks quiver with every move of his tongue seeking inside me, hollowing out to pull more from me. Hearing his breath grow faster, and the soft nasal whimpers as he went about his work. It was all I could do now to keep from rubbing myself to the thought. Wait, I guess I already was. Fuck, my fingers are greedy bitches. I stuck them in my mouth to clean them. So good.

I got out of the car and took off my skirt to mop up the mess on the leather seats. Can't ruin the upholstery. It's apt that this was Allen's car once. He gave it to me as a kind of graduation present when he left. We used to work on it together, when I was a younger woman unable and forbidden from acting on my passions. I carried the stained skirt inside the house.

That's how Tim saw me as I came down the hall, stained skirt in hand, naked from the waist down, clad only in my white blouse. My erect nipples, my half-lidded eyes, and the flush in my cheeks told my husband the rest of the story. His eyes took in my expression and flicked down to stare at my thighs. His expression turned pained with desire. Yes, I'm a fucking mess down there, Tim.

"Hi honey," I said.

"Hi Becky." He said. I watched his chest rise and fall quickly as I had been only a little more than an hour ago kneeling in Sir's office.

"Thirsty?" I said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Come closer." I shifted my hips and widened my stance.

He stumbled over the couch and practically fell at my feet, looking up into my eyes. His nostrils flared as he picked up my aroma. I touched his head and ran my fingers through his hair.

"You know what this is," I said.

He nodded.

"Tell me."

"It's our master's cum."

"Mm hm. I bet our little cuck would like to suck."

"Yes. Yes, please."

I looked around the house. "The house seems in order. Is dinner ready?"

An expression of disappointment ran across his face. "Yes, it's all ready, ma'am."

I realized he was worried I'd want to have dinner first. As if I could resist my desire to watch him eat Sir's cum a second more than I had to. But one must keep up appearances, no?

"So, what's for dinner?"

His eyes flicked down to my pussy. (Well, obviously that's what he hoped would be served.) He said, "It's a lemon chicken soup, warming in the crock pot, and fresh baked bread." The rising tone of his voice was full of pleading. It will keep warm.

I twirled my finger in his hair, as I pretended to consider dining now or later, as if I could hesitate as he lightly licked his lips in anticipation.

"It can wait," I said as I tightened my fingers in his hair and pulled his face to my crotch, stopping him just millimeters between his lips and mine. I struggled a bit to hold him against his neck, straining to close the gap. His tongue extended cautiously. I kept my grip steady, and he took that encouragement to stretch his tongue out to touch the thick coating at the top of my mons. He groaned.

"Yes, my cuck. Sticky and used. He fucked me twice because the first time he couldn't hold back. He's wanted me all week but had to make me wait. Make us wait. But tonight he wanted to pump me hard and fast."

I eased my grip and let him get close enough to begin lapping with the flat of his tongue. I felt the pleasure as my nerves reawakened under the touch, feeling the cool air left behind on clean skin.

I said, "Then we took our time. He played with me, tortured my nipples, and used his cum to lubricate his thumb, stretch my ass. It felt so good. I begged him to fuck me there, but he wanted to make sure you got a second helping in my pussy. Instead, he let me use my mouth to clean his cock and balls of all his cum coated there. I worshiped them until he was hard again. I deep throated him and then begged to eat his cum, but he said too much had drained out of my pussy. I needed another dose to bring home to my cum-loving property."

Tim moaned and slurped as I let him get a little closer. I felt his tongue curl and try to poke inside. I pulled him back slightly. Too soon, hungry boy.

I said, "I begged him please no, I wanted my treat. My cuck didn't deserve all Sir's cum; but Sir said he knew I would love seeing you this way. And I do, Tim. I can't get over how much I enjoy watching you eat cum. When I see you thirsty like this, I wish I could make you live on it. Nothing but cum. Your nasty cum. Sir's sweet cum. God, you love it, don't you?"

"Mm hm," he panted into my pussy. I guided my face down my inner thigh, letting his dripping drool soften the thickened streaks so he could eat that too.

"Get it all, cuck. I only wished I had watched you in the Club sucking those cocks in the glory hole booth. Was your expression as sweet as you sucked those cocks? Maybe you wished you could have swallowed instead of running back to fill the glass."

His moans and quivers told me it was true.

I sighed at the thought. "I bet it won't be long before you're sucking Sir off to amuse us both. I want to cheer you on as you try to get that inside you. Laugh as you fail and desperately try again."

He gasped and pulled back but I held him.

"Does cucky need his glass?"

"Mm hmm. Please?"

"No, this should be pleasure enough for you. Look how much you get off on me telling you how dirty you are, you cum-eating cuck."

He whimpered and tried to lean back for more.

"On your back," I said.

He groaned as rolled over and stared up between my legs. As I was facing his outstretched legs, I noticed his hard dick straining against his pants and the small dark circle spreading there.

"If you cum in your shorts, you'll be wearing them for a gag the rest of the night."

He shook his head.

"Now, Sir said that from now on, I'm allowed to come without him, but only when you're eating his cum. Isn't that kind of him?"

Tim nodded vigorously, squirming beneath me as I dropped to one knee, then the other straddling his face. I brought my hands to my thighs for balance and then to the floor for leverage. I guided my pussy just above his face and watched as small drops gathered and spattered his nose and cheek.

"Sir made me come so many times tonight, but I think I'll like this orgasm best because it comes from my dear, sweet husband as he eats his wife's used pussy."

"Fuck, Becky. Please, please, please, let me--"

I cut him off as I planted my pussy on his face, sealing him off. He rewarded me immediately with the twisting of his tongue in my vagina. So good. I ground my clit against his chin and lower lip. I used his face as my own personal toy. Rubbing against him, then riding. Sliding my clit up to his tongue, then back to let him drink more. Testing the limits of his breath. I wanted his tongue to ache for days with the memory of plumbing my depths for tasty trickles of what Sir and I mixed for him. This cup runs over with our flavors, all for my husband to drink.

Finally, as I saw he had now cleaned everything that he could possibly reach, I held my clit against his tongue and bucked against him, fucking his face without care. I needed to come this way. Faster with short strokes, I came hard. I screamed the way I couldn't let myself scream in Allen's office. Then I collapsed onto Tim's legs. I let all my weight drape over him. I splayed my legs under gravity, not caring about the view I gave my husband of my red and puffy pussy. I bet he stared at it lovingly. I felt his dick twitch under me, but to his credit, he hadn't come yet. He was getting better with practice. We would have to keep testing those limits, though. I was a little disappointed I wouldn't get to punish him.

I rolled off him after a few minutes. We stared at the ceiling side by side. He took my hand, and I squeezed his back.

"Did you like that?" I said.

"More than you can know," he said.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you, too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Then because I couldn't help myself. "Whose cum is in your belly now?"

"Sir's"

"That's right. You'll have to work as hard as you did tonight to know what I taste like without him."

I heard him lick his lips and swallow. I wondered which flavor he preferred now.

At last I said, "Dinner?"

"Yes, ma'am. Right this way." He stood himself up and reached down for me. "Love?"

I took his hand. Yes, I am your love. Your only love.

* * *

Over a quick breakfast standing in the kitchen the next day, I told Tim about my conversation with Sir.

"He wants to take things to another level, Tim. He wants more intimacy with me."

Tim laughed. "Isn't it pretty intimate now?"

"Oh, baby. He means intimacy like what we have. Like more a part of our lives."

"Oh, I see." I couldn't work out his expression. He was mulling it over. He said, "The way I look at it, when we signed that pledge to him, we gave our marriage to him. I knew that's what it might come to."

Strange, I realized maybe Tim had been more serious than I had been. I think I was still in a fantasy world, but Tim understood the practical change that had happened when we gave ourselves to Allen.

Tim said, "To be honest... It has been a big part of my... kink?"

"Like when he came to the house. And he took me in front you?"

"Yes."

I watched his expression carefully. The memory was turning him on. This was part of Tim's fantasy to be marginalized by me -- an onlooker as another took his place.

I said, "So you like being seen as the bottom bitch too." He swallowed. That was a yes. "So, if he spent more time here, you'd be OK?"

"Oh, yes."

Then a thought struck me. "What about our friends?"

He snapped his head to me and locked eyes. There was a little panic, but also something else.

He said, "You mean, in front of them?"

"I meant, if they saw him around us? What if they guessed... or knew?"

All the signs were there: his shallow breaths coming faster, the flush in his cheeks. He may not be ready for it. But who knows? Just the thought of Sir being around us, being introduced as a friend, seeing the furtive ways we deferred to him, hearing the obedient tones in our voices around him. They wouldn't know. But they'd wonder.

Tim said, "I'm nervous."

I nodded, "But..."

He sighed. He bit his lip. This was delicious to watch. He said, finally, "They're going to know, eventually. Everyone close to us will know one day whether or not we tell them. We belong to him, Becky. That's us now. Unless you think this is just a phase?"

Wow, not my husband thinking far more ahead than me. Was I treating this as seriously as Tim? Or perhaps I just thought this would stay our little secret. But forever?

"No, you're right, Tim. I think I've been in a honeymoon phase, you know?"

He smiled. I reached over and touched his cheek.

I said, "I guess I was rapt by the newness of it all. But I feel that this is forever with Allen. Or, if I'm honest, until he grows tired of me."

Tim shook his head. "If he does, he's an idiot. And like you said, he is perfect for you. We're never going to do this with anyone else."

He was right, again. I didn't know how long we'd have with Allen, but do we really know how long we have with anyone? Would I be on my knees worshipping Allen's cock thirty years from now? God, I hoped so. With Tim next to me.

"I can't be late," I said, my head suddenly buzzing with thoughts. "But I guess we should plan a little barbecue or something."

I kissed Tim's cheek and checked to see if that landed. Indeed. He was already mulling over the prospects. What would it be like? Allen walking around our house like he owned the place -- like he owned us? Would we get quizzical looks or see whispers between couples, or maybe hear a pointed question? "So, what's the deal with Allen?"

Oh, he fucks us. We love it. Tim is just beside himself with joy while he eats our master's cum out of my pussy.

I beamed at the thought as I left Tim with his.

* * *

Sir cancelled our end-of-day meeting the next day, but he texted me an address and told me to have Tim meet us there that evening. I checked the address. It looked like a tattoo and piercing parlor. With trembling hands, I texted Tim the address. I waited for his reply while self-consciously stroking my nipples through my blouse. Sir had talked about me getting them pierced. What will they feel like after?

Tim's text reply, "!!!"

I laughed. He had looked it up too.

Tim and I arrived in separate cars and stood for a moment outside. We faced each other. I held his hands and stared into his eyes. This was going to be a physical change. Even if I ended up removing the piercings later, I would still have a scar and a memory. Not that I was hesitating. No, I was feeling charged, giddy with the thought of having a constant physical reminder of my commitment.

I said, "I feel excited, like when you proposed to me, Tim."

He smiled. "Yeah, I kinda feel the same."

I kissed him, took a deep breath, and turned toward the store.

When we stepped inside, it was clean and bright and not what I expected from a tattoo parlor. There were many signs and racks of jewelry, but it felt more like a salon. Still, I felt like completely out of place. The receptionist, though, was a young brunette with gorgeous skin. She had multiple piercings on her face that set off her fine features. The tattoos visible on her shoulders and arms exposed by her white tank top were graphic and indecipherable to me. Through the thin cloth of the shirt, I could see the bar piercing in her right nipple. I admired her immediately.

She said, "Welcome to our studio."

Tim said, "We're meeting Allen here."

She said, "Allen?"

Tim said, "Mr. Marks?"

The receptionist's expression never changed.

I offered, "We call him, Sir."

A slight smile came to the corners of the receptionist's eyes. "Of course," she said. She gave Tim and me an appraising look. "Paul is setting up for you back here." She guided us back to a station as I wondered what she thought of the two of us. Did she see us as the noobs we were? Or did she see what Allen saw in us: needy bitches? I realized she knew all along who we were. She just wanted to make us say it.

In the back of the studio, she handed us off to a handsome man I assumed was Paul. He had ornate tattoos all over his slender body. Most seemed Asian influenced in vibrant golds and reds. His face was welcoming. He had kind eyes. His head was shaved as far as I could tell under his porkpie hat.

"Welcome," he said. "I'm Paul." He shook our hands and then said. "Thanks, Lila, I will close up."

Lila said, "Thanks."

She left us with Paul, who pointed me to a chair similar to a dentist's. "Take off your shirt."

Suddenly, nervous, I looked to the door.

Paul said, "Mr. Marks won't be here tonight. He has given me all the information, though. I think you'll be happy with his choices." He glanced at Tim. How much information did Sir give Paul, I wondered? Tim had a flush in his cheeks. This was exciting for him. Interesting. Feeling like this was a test of loyalty, I took a breath and began unbuttoning my blouse. I turned to Paul and slipped my blouse off my shoulders, sensing without words that Tim would catch it before it touched the ground. Which he did. He stood behind me holding my blouse as I took my seat topless for this stranger.

Paul smiled and said, "Before we go further. Are you receiving these gifts of your own free will?"

I nodded, and then added, "Yes."

"Do I have your consent to proceed?"

"Absolutely."

Paul turned to Tim. "And you? You consent?"

"Yes," Tim replied.

If Paul had an opinion, he withheld it as he went about his work, putting on gloves, setting up the equipment. Everything was so careful and precise. It felt more like a dentist's office with the protocol and procedure. All the ritual was turning me on frankly.

Paul asked me a few more questions. Had I been drinking? Taking drugs? He looked carefully at my breasts, checking left and right as if lining things up in his head. He had me sign papers. I looked at Tim and opened my eyes wide in an expression of, "Can you believe this?"

Paul pinched both nipples, which were standing proud. "Beautiful," he said. And I wasn't sure what he meant. He took out a sterilizing cloth and wiped the whole area of each breast. It was strange to be cleaned clinically like this. I looked at Tim and shook my head. Paul took out a marker and drew a dot at the side of each nipple. Then he handed me a mirror.

"What do you think?" he said.

I looked at the dots and found myself wet with the thought that soon those would be jewelry for Sir. I looked at Tim, who nodded. He was having his own experience watching my breasts being handled by a stranger.

I nodded to Paul.

"Very good," Paul said. And without looking back he told Tim, "Now, cuck, take a picture and send it to your master."

I gasped. Tim stood frozen. The sudden revelation in Paul's words shocked both of us.

"Now," Paul said.

"Yes, sir," Tim said and took out his phone. He took several pictures.

Paul said, "Of the placement, cuck. He wants to approve where these will go."

"Oh, um, yeah," Tim said, and he moved in and took several close shots of each nipple.

Hearing a stranger call my husband, cuck, was working me up. The sudden servility from Tim was bringing out my dominance.

"Do you think Sir will like these?" I said.

Tim nodded nervously and stepped back. He sent the images off, and right away, I heard the vibration of his phone in response.

"He says, 'Perfect.'"

I looked at Paul, whose casual demeanor in delivering our submission was really working for me. Paul then retrieved a clamp from the instrument tray and trapped my right nipple.

"Oh, fuck," I said as I felt the tightness. It triggered that same sensation as Allen's nipple clamps. I felt the flush involuntarily cross my chest. Paul quickly retrieved the needle, which looked impossibly large. I looked into Tim's eyes. He was kind enough to make his face placid for me. He nodded and smiled. I loved that man.

The pain was quick. I yelped. But Paul was so expert, it didn't hurt that bad. I felt a little heat flow through me.

"Just one more moment," Paul said. I kept eye contact with Tim as I felt the tug on my nipple and then some pressure. I knew Paul was inserting the jewelry. He quickly cleaned the area again.

I looked down. A simple gold hoop with a white pearl bead graced my nipple. There was a small drop of blood, and Paul wiped it carefully. He looked at me. I smiled. "It's gorgeous," I said.

Paul nodded and started on the other nipple. This time I watched the whole process. Paul used a second needle. The tapered point looked erotic to me as Paul slid it quickly through my flesh. I felt a hit of excitement as I saw it come through the other side. I bit my lip at the small red dot of blood. I watched through the removal of the needle and Paul's gentle, quick insertion of the hoop, the locking of the element. He cleaned this one and checked in with me.

"All good?" he said.

"Yes. So good." I said. Fuck, the whole experience turned me on. I could see how people wanted more.

"Cuck?" Paul said, again, just looking at me.

Tim said, "Beautiful."

"No, cuck," I said, feeling powerful again. "Sir wants another picture."

"Yes, ma'am. Of course," Tim said, snapping out of his reverie.

I held eye contact and smiled conspiratorially at Paul. We were having fun toying with my husband as he came in close for more pictures.

Tim sent them off, and we waited.

It seemed to take a beat longer. Sir was distracted, or mulling it over, maybe. Would he want something different? What would that mean? I felt the tingles of anxiety in my stomach mixing with my sexual excitement at being pierced by this new person, having him order my husband around. It was all so tasty.

The buzzing of my phone made me jump. I pulled it out and read the message from Sir. My heart leaped at the message. Oh, fuck. I looked at Paul and then back to Tim.

"Your turn," I said.

Tim's face went white. He held my gaze. I nodded soberly.

Paul seemed to expect this. He reached out his hand to help me out of the chair. He and I stood facing Tim.

"Now, cuck," I said.

Tim unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers. He set it down on a chair and stepped toward the chair. I noted the slight shaking in his knees. He turned and collapsed into the seat. I saw he had an erection. If Paul noticed, he ignored it.

I stayed topless as Paul went through the same questions and procedures for my husband. I kept my eyes kind as Tim looked at me for comfort. The whole process was delicious. I watched his body go passive as he followed every instruction. His tone in answering the questions was quiet and shy. His total submission was turning me on to no end. Could he see the excitement in my eyes? Maybe in the way I licked my lips and bit them as the needles went in? Tim didn't even groan although I would have loved the sound. He didn't make a noise until Paul finished with the second hoop and Tim finally looked down. Then he whimpered. I moaned softly, hearing my cuck's realization.

In each nipple was a small gold hoop with a single pearl bead. We matched.

Now we were a true pair. Now we couldn't deny our places under Sir's command. Now we would have physical reminders of our submission. Now we would have something at risk of exposure. Who in our lives might see the outlines of these through our clothes? How would we explain Tim's new jewelry or why he wouldn't take his shirt off around the swimming pool? Or when he did? All these thoughts made me ache to edge myself for Sir. I needed to touch myself and found it agonizing not to. Judging from Tim's erection, he was struggling with the same thoughts.

We listened carefully to all the instructions. It was going to be maddening during the healing process. I loved when Sir played with my nipples but for now it was hands off. Tim couldn't suck and lick me either until it was all healed. Paul charged Tim with our mutual care. Paul showed Tim on me how to care and clean the piercings and made Then Tim practiced on himself. My nipples were aching now, but I couldn't tell if it was from the piercing or the prolonged excitement. My head was buzzing and I'm glad Tim was paying attention at least, because I couldn't stop thinking of how badly I wanted to show Sir our new jewelry and to worship his cock in thanks.

Finally, as Paul was getting our care kit together, I received another text.

Paul, seeming to expect the message, smiled kindly at me as he handed the bags to my husband. Neither of us had yet to put on our tops.

I sighed softly. I turned my gaze from Paul to Tim.

I said, "Sir wants me to show Paul my appreciation."

Tim's eyes went wide in recognition. I didn't hesitate. I turned back to Paul and stepped toward him.

"Thank you so much for your kind attention," I said as I reached down and slid my hands over his crotch. I felt him growing.

Paul said to Tim, "Your master is very generous, cuck." I moaned as I heard the word. My husband, exposed again as a submissive. His wife stroking a stranger's cock. Tim was helpless to intervene as I contemplated Sir's instructions. "Suck him off," was all the text said. I knew he didn't mean my husband.

"On your knees, slut," Paul said.

"Yes, Paul," I said. "May I take it out for you?"

"Yes, slut. Show your cuck what a whore for cock you are."

I could hear Tim's rapid breathing behind him. I knew what this was doing to him.

I opened Paul's pants and pulled out his cock. It was not too long, but it was thick and uncut. He had a piercing in his urethra that fascinated me. I moaned as I looked up at Paul for permission.

Paul said, "Ask me, cuck. I know your wife wants it. But you have to ask me."

Tim's shaky voice came from behind me. "Please... Please let my wife... suck you." The last words were so meek, I sighed. God, I loved how much this was turning him on.

Paul laughed. "Cucks are so easy. Just like you, slut. You just ache to have your holes filled, right?"

I didn't answer. I groaned as I engulfed his cock with my mouth. I stroked it. I let my tongue play with the piercing. I found the newness of his salt intoxicating. He grew quickly in my mouth. I got into my role. I wanted to be the greedy whore. Just give me cum. Just use my holes. I felt liberation from the strange new cock. I didn't have to prove myself like I did with Sir. I just needed to make this fucker spurt. I grunted like an animal as slobbered all over his cock. I let him out of my mouth and stroked him as I lapped at his sack.

I became lost in the act, letting myself go. I didn't really hear the buzzing of Tim's phone, but I put the pieces together when I saw him next to me with his phone. He was filming my act for Sir.

"Thank you, Sir, for our gifts," I said. "I fucking love them."

Then I went back to noisily blowing the cock. I gagged myself. I slurped and slobbered.

I heard Paul's sounds now. Soft grunts at the beginning of his exhales. My fingers encircling his balls felt them rise. He was gonna nut soon for me. Then I heard Sir's voice. He was watching us live.

Sir said, "On her face."

"Fuck, yeah." Paul said.

Fuck yeah, I thought.

I heard Tim's desperate moan beside me. I didn't care, though. I opened my mouth to free Paul's cock and began stroking him over my upturned face.

"Come for me. All over me," I said.

He grunted and cried out. The spurts came fast and thick. I had to close one eye with as the load sealed my eyelid. It felt like a lot and each rope warmed my skin. My forehead, my nose, my cheeks. I kept stroking until the last pulses were over my lips and open mouth; I licked greedily and swallowed. I sucked the end of Paul's cock, being sure the clean the piercing thoroughly. I really liked the novelty of it. I wondered what my husband's dick would look like with one.

Paul stepped back.

Sir's voice came again. "Hand Paul the phone, cuck."

Uncertain what was next, I held still as cum dripped down my face. I felt it on my earlobes and neck. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw the blur of Tim's shaky hand as he handed the phone to Paul.

Allen's voice followed it as he said, "Don't let any of that mess get on her new jewelry, cuck."

I shook. I felt the quiver in my pussy as I realized Tim's next humiliation. The thought was barely through me before I felt Tim's mouth on my neck. He slurped and swallowed. I felt the tingle of excitement run up my spine. I love my neck and earlobes nibbled and now my husband was hungrily lapping a stranger's cum from there. I almost came myself. Grateful that Tim's tongue wouldn't be near my pussy today.

Paul got close with the camera and I could see my husband in the screen through my one half-lidded eye. I held the other shut against the thick puddle of cum over it. Tim's tongue gently sucked it into his mouth. That image will stay with me for a long time. I hoped this was recording too, so I could watch it later. I felt so completely slutty under my facial as my husband licked up the mess. His own eyes told me a story of submission and desire.

"You like that, cuck?" I whispered. "You like cleaning up that spunk?"

He moaned.

"You really are a clean-up boy, aren't you? Just a lowly cum-eating cuck?"

"Yes, dear," he said. "I love it."

"What's that?" I said. "Cucks love what?"

"Cum," he said louder, "Your cuck loves eating cum from your men."

"Thank the man," I said. "Thank Paul. Thank your master for their gift."

"Yes," he said between slurps. "Thank you, Sir for letting me eat this cum. Thank you for giving my wife's mouth to him. Thank you, Paul, for letting me eat your cum. I don't deserve it, but I love it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

I shivered at the new tone. He doesn't deserve it. That was new. Hearing him say it aloud so frankly, 'Eat this cum.' Yeah, eat that cum, cuck. Fuck, his self-humiliation was bringing out my lion. I wanted to bat him around like a cub playing with her prey.

"Are you sad Sir didn't tell you to suck Paul off? Did you want that cock, too?"

He groaned.

"Say, it cuck."

"Y- Yes."

"You having trouble talking with your mouth full of cum, cuck?"

"Yes, I wish I could. But I love watching you. You look so beautiful sucking cock."

"I bet you look pretty too, with a cock in your mouth, hubby." I laughed. This was fun.

When my face felt less sticky, I straightened up. I felt a drop run down my chin, but Tim was right there to slurp it up. We gazed at each other. Both of our faces shiny with saliva.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Tim said.

I smiled and bit my lip. "You too."

"OK, lovebirds," Paul said, "Off you go."

He handed Tim his phone, and we both stood up on shaky legs. Paul didn't bother putting his cock back in his pants as he helped us gather our things. I licked my lips as I saw a string of cum drip off his piercing onto the floor. I shook my head in amazement at what we'd done tonight.

Paul was professional -- aside from the dripping cock -- as he gave us our final instructions. He was holding our shirts. I reached out, but he shook his head as he handed them to us.

"Leave them off until you get home."

"What?" I said. "Like for healing?"

Paul smiled. "No, because I said so."

I laughed and stood up straight as I tucked my blouse into the bag and picked up my purse. I looked at Tim for reassurance. Our nipples were red and erect. I thought the hoops looked beautiful as Paul began shutting off the lights in the store. He walked us out. The street was empty, thank goodness. Paul probably knew it would be.

"I won't ever forget this," I said to Paul as he closed the door behind us. He winked at me.

Then the two of us were standing on the street. Our nipple rings glinting in the streetlamp light. I kissed my husband. I smiled as I smelled the scent of cum and saliva on his face.

"See you at home," I said.

"See you at home."

We both walked deliberately to our cars. We drove home separately, letting the breeze tickle our chests. I took the back streets because I didn't have the top up on my MG. Anyone who drove by could see my exposed breasts. Cops wouldn't be happy. I pulled my shirt out just in case I needed a quick cover.

But part of me didn't care. Can't you see I'm owned? Don't you wish you were like me? I felt wanton. I felt free. Yet, I craved an orgasm so desperately. If I didn't have to shift gears, I would have edged myself the whole way home.

In fact, when I pulled into the garage, I saw Tim was still in his car, even though he beat me home. He looked over. From behind, we both must have appeared completely naked if anyone saw us. I saw his shoulder moving. I understood. I pressed the garage door button and smiled back at him as I pulled up my skirt and began my slow edging, too.

Side by side. Staring into each other's eyes. Matching piercings. Matching movements. Both coming close. Neither coming.